


fragarach

by bluhen



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, aka "sure you could have arme disgusted by apos but hey: consider this", 今から平和な生活をしてください。
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-12 22:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14737316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluhen/pseuds/bluhen
Summary: Arme arrives in a secluded room, an angel shining brightly to a man who can no longer see it.





	fragarach

**Author's Note:**

> im really interested in the idea of all the ains existing at once, given their different stances and relationships to the goddess, and existence as a whole really; and the bit of armes description that says "However, he is calm and merciful to those in need as the Emissary of the Goddess." so this is a result of that i guess  
> tw possibly for suicidal ideations ? brief talk of it, but nothing graphic. stay safe in any case

Arme comes to him, and of course, he jumps like a startled animal the second he hears the door close behind him.

“Don’t close thatーWhatー“ he mutters as he turns around, before his eyes widen greatly. He scuttles backwards and falls out of his chair, ending up taking it down with him.

Arme looks as an elite. His coat, his wings, his eleganceーhe commands reverence with his mere presence. It makes fear shoot through Wanderers chest. He doesn’t care that he’s effectively ruined the room around him, knocking into the table by him as he scrambles back. _Foolish, idiot, he’s so stupid stupid stupid to think he could hideーIshmael is upset with him. Of course she is. She’s sent an elite angel for him to eradicate him, to erase him from existence for betraying her, for failing her, for being a useless husk, it’s over it’s over it’s overー_

“Stop that.” Arme calls, upon seeing tears begin to make Wanderers cheeks shine. That was bad, wasn’t it? It was a sign of despair.

Arme is not good at this. The call comes out as a command, and Wanderer is shocked into place, frozen in fear in all aspects but his tears. He doesn’t move, doesn’t dare to, for fear of divine punishment. _No, Ishmael is surely furious with him, he shouldn’t incite more of her wrath by disobeying in his final moments. Oh, he’s going to die, he’s going to die now, that’sーthat’s soー_ a heavy despair in his chest that makes a choked sob fall from his lips.

“No, not,” Arme whispers, then curses himself under his breath. He waves the wings and his pendulum away, and after a careful thought, decides to keep his coat. He kneels down, and says, holding his voice as gently as possible, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

He decides it would be best to let Wanderer come to him, instead of further cornering him. He can make at least _one_ good decision, here, he hopes.

“Please come to me. If you’d like,” he adds the last part, remembering he shouldn’t command someone so frightened. “I’m here on behalf of Lady Ishmael.”

He sees now mentioning the last part was a mistake. Wanderer yelps and clutches his shirt above his heart frantically.

“No, IーDo you think I’m going to hurt you? I told you I wouldn’t, and I meant it.” He worries his lip, quickly catches himself and stops, “I’m here to help you.” _To try, at least._

Wanderer stares at him, distrusting, and glances around nervously. Arme had closed the door, and was situated in a way where he’d have to go through him to get out. Would he let him? Would he be faced with divine fury if he did attempt to run? What did he mean by ‘help?’

Armes face twists, and he sighs, relaxes. “My title is Arme Thaumaturgy. What is yours?” He asks, despite already knowing.

Wanderer lets his hand fall from his chest, heart still beating too hard. “I don’tーI don’t owe you that.” Then, immediately, “No, no, no I’mーI’m sorry, Lady Ishmael, it’sーI am Lofty: Wanderer.” His eyes dart around Armes silhouette, observing his open hand and the one behind his back, the way he seems to glow and illuminate the room from the darkness Wanderer kept it in. Whatー

“What do you have behind your back?” He asks, voice trembling, and Armes head pops up from its relaxed position. He looks somewhat surprised.

“Nothing,” He says, waving his hand in front of his face once, “see? It’s alright.”

Wanderer knew better. Even in his panicked state, he knew agents of Ishmaelーespecially ones so evidently powerful as this oneーcould manifest powerful blades in seconds. His hands being empty meant nothing, but at least he had no pendulum actively with him.

“Then, what do you want wi-with me?” He ventures.

“I want to help you.”

“How?”

“Lady Ishmael… is aware of your calls,” he starts, and quickly continues when he sees how this affects Wanderers expression, “but she cannot reach you, for whatever reason. I am here on her behalf.”

And Wanderer, again, starts to cry.

“She doesn’tーShe doesn’t forsake me?” He whimpers, and Arme feels something in his chest stir. Which is odd, that should be impossible. Shouldn’t it? Angels didn’t feel, or weren’t supposed to, and he’d avoided that thus farーclearly something Wanderer hadn’t been able to do.

Well, it wasn’t important right now. “No, of course not. She wishes she could contact you, but something stops her. So, I’ve come in her place. I can carry anything you would wish to tell her.”

Wanderer sits up, finally, leaning more towards him. “Rea… Really? You can do that? That won’t, that won’t be troublesome?”

Arme shakes his head. “I _am_ doing this on my own time, but no.” He attempts to give a soft smile. As far as he knows, it works, as Wanderer seems to relax.

“T-Tell herーtell her, I,” he begins, “I’m sorry, please, please tell her I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I… I’m sorry I failed her. I failed everyone, and Iー” he hiccups through his tears, and his head falls.

Arme decides now is a good time to attempt to come closer to him. He has to pick his way through the fallen furniture, moves some of it to get to him and the noise alarms Wanderer. He squeaks, and yet, he doesn’t move to run. Arme kneels once again, this time close to Wanderer. He sucks in a breath when he touches Wanderers arm and it stings. Wanderer cries out in surprise, anyway, so he decides to move his touch to his shoulder instead.

It’s still hot, a dull burning detectable through the cloth. Does Wanderer feel it, or is he too far from Ishmael? Arme knows it burns because of his divine energyーit must be touching something as impure as Henir directly that causes the pain. It’s not even something that can be described as a burn, or as pain, just _wrong_. He hoped Wanderer couldn't feel it. He knew he wouldn’t do any good to hurt the man, even if it was unintentionally.

So he decides to ask. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“N-no… I just, got scared, I’m sorry.”

Arme… is not entirely sure what to do now, really, that he’s gotten this far. He’s never been good at comforting. He’s heard a bit about another angel who’s been an anomaly in that he _is_ ーhe has all sorts of emotions angels weren’t supposed to feel and Ishmael _let him_. How did _he_ do it? He tried to remember a few things he’s seen the humans he’d met do.

Wanderers head jerks up when Arme rubs a thumb back and forth across his shoulder. He stops, suddenly, thinking he did something wrong, until Wanderer eases into it slowly.

“I am fairly certain Lady Ishmael doesn’t think you betrayed her.” Arme says, feeling his voice lift itself up again and pushing it back down.

“NoーI did, I did I did, I let myself beーbe taken advantage of and I failed her. I betrayed her trust, betrayed her love, I-Iー” He buries his head in his hands, and sucks in a harsh breath. “I failed her, and I should be punished.”

“That’s not true. You didn’t consciously decide to be injured. She is not upset with you.”

“But I deserve it! I deserveーI deserve,” he hiccups, “to be punished!”

“Please stop saying thatー”

Arme is cut off by Wanderer suddenly grabbing his arm and yanking it towards his chest. His voice is shrill and hoarse.

“I know you can! I kn- _know_ you can! You can do it, y-you can punish me, you can kill me I know you can _why won’t you I know you’re here for that I know you areー_ ”

It burns. It burns, it _burns_ , Wanderers harsh grip on his arm seems to seethe through the cloth and boil at his flesh. It’s the corrupted arm, the dense energy that led him to Wanderer, he needs him to let go, let _go_ ー

“I _KNOW_ you can! You c-could just conjure a blade and end a-a-all of this right now! _WHY_ won’t youー”

Arme yanks his arm as roughly to the side as he can without truly injuring Wanderer, and he falls back onto the floor, rasping. Arme rubs his wrist. He doesn’t check the condition of his arm, knows he can’t right now without it disturbing Wanderer further. Even after thatー _especially_ after that, after him showing him the true state he’s in, he couldn’t.

“Do _not_ do that again,” he hisses. Then, a sigh upon how he sees Wanderer teary-eyed again. What is he to do with him… He came to help, but he doesn’t want to accept it…

“I told you, I’m not here to hurt you, and I won’t. I can’t do that to you.”

“Why… Why not…” Wanderer mutters, sounding absolutely exhausted. He has not yet gotten up.

“You don’t deserve that.”

Wanderer whines, sits up just enough to pull his knees close to his chest and hide his face behind them. From the way his shoulders shake, Arme guesses he is crying again.

He stares at Wanderer, thinking hard. Two things come to him: something Ishmael did when he was but an essence of light, and a way to replicate it with Wanderer.

“May I touch you again?” He asks, as gently as he knows how. He doesn’t get a response for a while, but eventually, Wanderer nods (albeit without raising his head.) So, Arme sits next to him and wraps an arm around his shoulders. He hisses slightly at the burn, but ignores it, for now. For the others sake. Wanderer lifts his head up in surprise.

Arme is… warm. Not in the typical way, butーbut in the way Ishmael was, a way that he had almost forgotten. Welcoming, soothing and homelike. His tears stop flowing, but they still well up in his eyes. He leans into Arme. Ah, he really is an elite, isn't he? If his aura is this close to Ishmaels… He doesn't want to think about it, however. All he wants to do is let the wispy cloak of Ishmaels love envelop him. It's pleasant, so pleasant, better than anything he's felt in all the time sinceーsinceー

Wanderer is choking up again. Arme shushes him (what is that? why is he doing that? he doesn't understand) and pulls him closer. The man is cold, colder than he should be. Aside from the persistent numbing burn against his shoulder, he felt nothing where there should be warmth. Even _Arme_ was warm, one thing that made him seem human. Was it because of Henir…? His chest aches once more at the thought, and he knits his brow.

He can't stay like this forever, and he knows this, and he's fairly certain Wanderer does too. Butーbut the thought of simply leaving him here, now, to be further swallowed up by Henir and thrown into complete despairーit grabs something that shouldn't exist in his chest and squeezes.

...He will stay here. Surely, eventually, Wanderer will fall asleep, and he can leave, discreetly. He wishes there were another outcome, but there simply wasn't.

He knows, also, that one day he would have to smite the man if the corruption continued. This wasn't a thought he liked, either.

There was also the possibility of Wanderer offing himself before the corruption entirely took hold, given how he had just acted. It makes Arme shudder. Suicide was something he had both never understood and been horrified by. Not repulsed byーit just frightened him, the idea of being so deep in despair, that… He didn't understand it. But he understood when Ishmael beckoned unworthy angels, called them to her only to give a wave of her fist andーnothing. Nothing would remain.

Death was unpleasant, and dirty, and he chose not to think about gifting it to so many in the name of divine execution so often much. Seeing the possibility of it so clear in one of his own, nowー

Wellー

Wanderer starts to fall, and Arme has to rush to further support him before he can hurt himself on the concrete. Ah, he had fallen asleep, just as he'd thought he would…

Arme gently lifts him up in both arms, (oh, he's heavy) and flicks a finger to a chair. It rights itself (he'll worry about the consequences of trivial conveniences later) and he sets Wanderer upon it. For the first time since Arme arrived, he looks tranquil, relaxed. His face twists knowing he couldn't preserve it.

It was time to leave. His responsibility was to care for those forlorn, as Ishmael would, as she does. He had done all he could. He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he makes to leave.

He opens and shuts the door as quietly as he can, and once out intervenes. Ishmael listens patiently to his recounting of Wanderers condition. He can feel her sadness emanating through him as he tells her of his… ‘request’ to him. She gives him a message we both know I can't write to you. But know it was gentle, as she always is. Full of love and caring, and forgiveness.

He had done all he could. Wanderer awakes alone and shivering.

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw wanderer makes me terribly sad i want to give him a hug and a blanket  
> edit 10/20/18: apparently at some point the entire last chunk of this was deleted. and i have no idea how but thats fixed now, sorry about that


End file.
